Bittersweet
by p01ent
Summary: All he wanted was a normal freshman year in college without getting mixed with the wrong crowd. Little did Matthew Williams know, he wouldn't only be mixed with the wrong crowd, but intimately involved with a punk's troubled life. Lady luck was truly a bitch. Rated T for now.


_Author's note:_

 _Hello, loves! This is Pokii, back with a new multi-chapter fic that will hopefully see the ending. Perfectly honest, I have never finished a multi-chaptered fic before and I'm very determined to finish this one off, just for the satisfaction of completing a multi-chaptered story._

 _There may be several grammatical errors in here, so if you spot any, please do lil ol' me a good favour and inform me :)))_

 _Btw, I finished this chapter off at night, so that's why it seemed quite rushed ^^;;_

•••

Matthew Williams would daresay that he was quite an intellectual-especially if you were to compare him with his step brother, Alfred.

Though despite such a quality, he still had an uncanny subconscious habit of blending in too well with the crowd and ultimately being invisible; barely another face in the crowd. Matthew would forgive those at school or on the streets, but at home?

It was unforgivable.

The blonde spared a timid yet bitter glance at his step mother, the monster of aggravation being awakened at the recollection as to how horribly the woman had treated him-or in this case, lack of any treatment. Quite the child neglect when he was younger.

Ever so quietly, Matthew allowed a small sigh to pass through his lips, carrying the smallest hints of irritation as he stared down at his twiddling fingers.

Even after all these years, the woman who was supposedly his step mother never showered him, her step son, with love as she would her biological one–Alfred. It was funny, in a sardonic sense, how things just happen because it happens; Gregory Jones was rightfully married to Alfred's mother, Amelia, but had had an affair with Matthew's mother, Emma.

Quite tragic already, now isn't it?

There's more to that.

Not only did Gregory have an affair with his mother, but when Amelia found out of the affair, the man laid the blame on Emma, claiming she was the one who forced them into the affair and leaving the poor woman all on her own to deal with pregnancy a few months after.

How had Matthew known of the truth?

His father came clean to him after obvious signs of evasion on Matthew's account when they gained custody of him after Emma's death.

The man thought his second son would forgive him and let their family be happy as can be if he did, with an apology.

Matthew humoured him, accepted the apology in where the man automatically thought he was already forgiven; but he didn't know that just because the boy had accepted the apology, meant that he forgave him.

He can hold a grudge if he wants to.

"Matthew."

"Yes, Ms. Amelia?" Matthew responded curtly, careful to control his tone despite the monster screaming at her to _shut up_ and _get out of_ _ **his life**_ for the sake of keeping his head attached to his neck-the woman was like a ticking time bomb when alone with him.

Amelia took her sweet time to say anything, polished nails tapping on the steering wheel as she furrowed her eye brows in deep thought.

The silence was deafening, the hypocritical monster of his getting truly annoyed at how long she was stalling, urging him to snap at her, sneer at her–anything, really. Just to spite the woman.

His step mother, after the lengthy pause, finally started; "Considering how you actually managed to get accepted into a college," ' _Unlike your biological son,_ ' Matthew mentally added "your father and I will be transferring you 200 dollars to your bank account each month to sustain you."

The woman sounded as though the very thought of spending money on _him_ was a waste of wealth.

He called bullshit, because she'd spoiled _Alfred_ rotten when he was a child and even till _now_ Amelia would give Alfred everything he wanted.

His step brother even had his own _car,_ Matthew bitterly recalled.

"Okay," he quietly replied when the car came into an abrupt stop, causing his body to lurch forward, the seat belt digging into his being before his body was pushed back by force.

"Don't get used to it," Amelia nipped "just because you're in college doesn't change how you're the whore's son."

Matthew maintained an impassive face, adapted to this sort of behaviour as he unbuckled the seat belt and got out the car with his sling bag.

The red Mercedes his step mother owned departed with a loud rumble as soon as he got all his luggage and bags out, not even sparing a goodbye.

He didn't need it anyway.

Matthew silently thanked God for blessing the college staff with the intelligence to prepare the campus map along with the mail of acceptance.

Right now though, he has to muster up the courage to knock on the door; surely his roommate–he assumed–wouldn't fancy him barging in as though he was the child to the principal.

Sucking in a deep breath, Matthew gingerly knocked on the door and waited for someone to respond.

A soft thump was heard before the sound of footsteps reached Matthew's ears.

Anxious of how his new roommate might behave, several assumptions popped into mind and none of them were exactly appealing to him. It's not his roommate's fault that he has the tendency to expect the worst, most of the blame for his pessimism would be thanks to his perfectly dysfuntional family.

"Yes? Can I help you?" A very British voice pulled him out of his little land.

Matthew internally shrunk back at his new roommate's get-up; green highlighted blonde hair, studs on his ears and a lip piercing gleaming in the light, a band t-shirt(sex pistols?) that hung loosely on his scrawny shoulders and tight leather pants.

' _Punk_ '

That word used to describe his new roommate just stuck to him immediately, the shorter male seeming more intimidating by ten folds thanks to his automatic label.

Matthew suspected another thing that had him stumped was the punk's fuzzy eyebrows-

"Excuse me, but do you have _any business here_?" The punk probed with a clipped tone.

Matthew stiffened, tightening his grip on his bag's strap in response to the intimidation. "Uh... hi?"

' _Fuck, what the hell was that, Matthew?! "Hi"?! Who the hell knocks on your door, stares at you for god knows how long and says "_ _ **hi**_ _"?!'_

The shorter blonde perked an expressive eye brow, leaning his weight against the doorframe.

 _'Great job, Matthew! You literally made yourself seem like a fool in front of a punk! A_ _ **punk**_ _! Oh god, I give you all permission to magically strike me with lightning even though I'm indoors-'_

"Hello."

 _'Wait, what?_ '

The punk let out a lengthy sigh, as if asking God why he had to deal with such a dense blonde, "I said 'hello'. Ever heard of that?" jested the male, effectively causing Matthew to jolt and struggle for a response.

"Eh? Ah, yeah yeah, of course I've heard of it—" The freshman was stuttering, practically swallowing some of his words in his anxiety and desperate need to save his remaining shreds of dignity "—I mean, that term is used as a way to greet someone politely or in a—"

"Arthur."

"—formal mann...what?" Matthew paused.

Another sigh. The green eyed punk pushed himself away from the doorframe, murmuring something akin to ' _pitiful creature_ ' as he leveled his gaze with the taller blonde. "I'm assuming you're my new roommate?" He phrased it as a query, in where Matthew took his cue to answer with a timid nod.

"I'm Arthur," Arthur stressed, hoping that his new roommate wouldn't zone out again, "Arthur Kirkland." He offered a hand in courtesy, nails painted black and wrist ringed with small tattoos.

Blinking owlishly, Matthew snapped himself out and adjusted his glasses before reaching over to envelope Arthur's smaller–and surprisingly delicate–hand in his. "I'm Matthew Williams—" he intoduced himself "—uh, freshman." Matthew added on second thought.

"Sophomore," the shorter stated shortly as they both decided it was a sufficient amount of time dedicated to physical contact, his hands going straight for his pockets.

Arthur took a fleeting glance at Matthew's luggage before stepping aside hastily, "Come in–you are rooming here with me after all;" said the punk "I'm not exactly one to leave someone to rot before knowing them at least."

Awkwardly thanking the sophomore, Matthew scurried inside along with his luggage.

The freshman would bashfully admit he expected a messy room, even if the other end is supposed to be his; but colour him surprised—it was actually very neat and tidy.

"Shocked?"quipped Arthur, a small smile tugging at his lips "Don't judge a book by its cover," the shorter strutted towards what seemed to be his bed before allowing himself to ease into it, grabbing a book left on the bedside table as he kicked off his flip flops.

"Considering how you're rooming with me, I would greatly appreciate it if you don't bring nightly partners here and proceed to do anything on _my_ bed—" the other occupant of the room blushed, his sling bag dropped in his process of placing it on his bed.

"—and please do note that I've claimed that cupboard," Arthur pointed at a basic cupboard situated closer to the bathroom, "so that," he relocated his finger so as to point at a similar looking cupboard, this one closer to their room door "is your's." The punk muttered something under his breath as he lowered his hand back on the book cover, Matthew only managing to pick up on the words ' _thank god_ ' and ' _common sense'_ as Arthur tapped on the book cover dazedly.

The green eyed sophomore then gestured to the two twin shelves side by side situated on the freshman's side, leaned against the wall of their room door. "I hope you don't mind me using one of the shelves over there, they didn't bother to provide another pair over here." The Canadian shook his head slightly as he unzipped his luggage bag, humming quietly before voicing "I don't mind, actually. I think the amount of books I have here can fit one shelf."

Arthur snorted quietly, "I actually have too much books with me, so the extra ones go here," the punk tilted his head towards the general direction of a bag, lying next to his bedside table "in my book bag." The sophomore opened the book to a page marked by a folded corner of the page.

"Ah, and I hope you don't terribly mind the fact that the study desk is over here." Arthur was referring to how said study desk was at the foot of his bed, a book already on the smooth surface of the desk.

"It's fine, it's fine," Matthew waved it off easily, flipping open his luggage bag only to be shot with embarrassment by how messy and untidy his clothes were arranged. Arthur, an eye witness of the man's embarrassment, allowed a small quirk up of his lips before clicking his tongue. "I was expecting more from you, Matthew." He said, mocking a disappointed tone.

The blonde freshman, still red in embarrassment, stumbled on his words as he tried to explain himself "I–well, t-to be fair; I–I couldn't fit th-the amount of clothes that-that I packed and-and then Alfred c-came around, so—" he gestured to the mess that he called his clothes, not meeting his roommate's green eyes.

The Brit blinked, asking a question that's been on his tongue for quite a time "You have a brother?" Matthew, who's face finally cooled down at the change of topic, finally met Arthur's inquiring gaze before nodding meekly "I guess..."

His curiosity piqued at the vague answer, the sophomore pushed, "You guess? Is he not blood related?" Arthur honestly wanted to slap himself; he of all people should know not to pry on other's family affairs–especially a stranger's.

But he was just so damn curious.

"Uh..." Matthew hesitated, fiddling on the hem of a t-shirt in his luggage bag skittishly. Quick to realise his mistake, the punk hastily retracted his query "I'm _so_ sorry; if it's not something that you would like to discuss with me, then you're welcomed to not answer—" "No!" Matthew cleared his throat "No," he continued with a softer tone "I-I don't mind sharing a bit with you–we are going to be rooming together, after all."

The corner of Arthur's lips tugged down slightly. "If you insist," the man conceded, shutting his book after making the brief conclusion that he wouldn't be as enraptured by his novel much after the conversation.

"Alfred–Alfred F. Jones is his full name–is my step-brother of sorts," the Canadian started, adjusting his round rimless glasses "we _are_ blood related though, through our _father_." Matthew's violet eyes narrowed with venom, momentarily causing fear to shoot through Arthur's veins.

"Our father, Gregory Jones, had actually been married to Alfred's mother, Miss Amelia." Arthur perked an expressive eye brow at the revelation "So you could say _I_ was the outcome of a mistake," Arthur opened his mouth, but didn't manage to put his own two cents in considering Matthew was quick to firmly resume "an affair between my biological mother, Emma Williams and my father."

After his little tale, a heavy silence weighed in the room, causing both of the occupants to squirm mildly after several minutes of deafening silence.

Finally, Arthur took the initiative and broke the silence, "I suppose I should share a bit of my own–just to make it fair," he said, eliciting a small sound of shock from the freshman. "You–you don't need to!—" "You're right–I _don't_ _need_ to," Arthur interfered "I _want_ to."

Matthew clamped his mouth shut.

The sophomore took in a shuddering breath before exhaling, sat in a cross-legged position on his bed with his forgotten book on his side. "My family wasn't always this shitty," Arthur started bluntly "We were quite the normal functioning family when I was younger, two responsible parents–in my case my mother and father–and three older brothers who adored to bully and tease me occasionally, yet I can tell they cared about me either way." Arthur's voice was quiet, meek, and almost vulnerable in a way that it scared Matthew, because as far as he knew the Brit, he seemed to be a punk who had a stiff upper lip, even in the worst of situations.

This introduction seemed to escalate fairly quickly, the Canadian noted fleetingly.

Arthur wringed his tattoed wrist with what seemed to be a force of habit, blinking before he resumed "Then everything...everything changed when pa lost his job due to a firing spree in the company he was working at;" the green eyes of his narrowed "he started coming home late even though he obviously didn't have a job anymore, and his favourite excuse was 'I was job hunting' he'd say–short and sweet." Arthur's black nails started picking at his own tatooed skin.

"Eventually, the occurences were coupled with him coming home absolutely hammered and too tired to bother with any of us–mumsy was getting queasy with how pa was coming home drunk when us kids were around–even though we were competent enough–so she had to put a promotion her boss had offered on hold; said promotion requires her to go abroad–she didn't want to leave us with our pa all pissed around us kids alone." Matthew shifted, violet eyes slightly nervous at how much the punk was spilling to him.

"Few weeks after, Alistair–my eldest brother–had gotten himself a job and on that exact week was the week mumsy found out that pa was using all his money on gambling, courtesy of pa's friend's horrid influence." Arthur pursed his lips, a far away look on his face as silence dragged on.

The other occupant of the room shifted noisily at the silence that dragged on longer than expected; assuming the punk was done with telling his story, Matthew opened his mouth to break the silence only to hear Arthur's voice again, "The promotion her boss had offered was still standing, so she took it, just so our family had the capability to live a comfortable life considering how pa leeched all of the money he had."

The green highlighted blonde reached for his book that was left beside him, pausing for a moment before offering to help with re-folding the freshman's clothes instead.

Matthew didn't dare refuse.

The heavy atmosphere had lightened after small–hesitant–talks of idle things as they both got the freshman settled in the room; slowly progressing into Arthur making Matthew giggle quietly at his fairly dry humour that Brits were infamous for and a small smile lingering on the sophomore's lips.

Arthur turned to look at the clock hung above their room door, his fingers sliding through his hair as he came to a realisation when he registered the time displayed; "Freshmen orientation is in another one hour and a quarter—" Matthew turned to look as well, a look of pleasant surprise on his face when he saw the time; 8:15.

"—so if you'd like, I can show you around–or we could just stay in the room, you do get the map of the whole campus, after all." The punk offered awkwardly, standing up from his place beside the freshman's now empty luggage bag.

The violet eyed man adjusted his glasses; mulling over several things in his mind before responding "Uh, if you don't mind–I'd like to go to the campus library?" He phrased it awkwardly that it fell into a query "And I personally think I'd be able to remember things better if I was led by a person instead of paper." added the freshman to save himself some dignity.

The sophomore offered a small twitch of the lips.

"This place is confusing," Matthew declared after arriving at double doors with the label 'Library' above the entrance, urging a smirk from the shorter man beside him. "Thankfully the administrators had the sense to place the dorms as a seperate building instead of having the whole campus as one huge building–" said Arthur before entering with his roommate.

"–Morning, Missus Ronalds,"

"Morning, Arthur!" An old woman behind the counter responded pleasantly, adjusting her small thin rimmed glasses as she smiled with her pink lips.

Her slightly discoloured blue eyes then relocated on the taller blonde beside Arthur, her eyes twinkling in the light as she asked, "This your roommate, Arthur?" her eyes directed towards the punk.

The man addressed by name smiled wryly as he fiddled with his studs, striding towards a table closest to the counter with his precious book in hand. "Actually, yes." He admitted as Matthew took a seat accross from him with his own book.

Missus Ronalds' face contorted into pleasant surprise at the man's admittance. "Oh? Glad to hear then." She noted "You usually won't bother helping the poor lads who roomed with you before."

Arthur's ears reddened as he quickly shoved his nose into his book, "He's... he's more decent."

Missus Ronalds had a sly look on her face before returning to her own work.

Matthew decided to open his book, not exactly reading it due to him processing the conversation conspired.

The three were the only ones in the big library.

"Arthur's roommate," Missus Ronalds called for Matthew, catching both roommates' attention. "there's around another 15 minutes before the freshmen orintation." She informed, urging both of the men to direct their attention towards the clock hung above the old woman's head.

"Ah, thank you for reminding me, Missus Ronalds—" The freshman stood up, "—I'm Matthew, Matthew Williams," he gave a smile to the pleasant old lady.

"You're welcome, young lad–any friend of Arthur's is a friend of mine." She smiled.

"See you soon."

"See you soon."

•••

 _Author's note:_

 _Schedule for updates will not be specified due to how busy I am nowadays, so the best I can say is that I'll update every fortnight? Or if you're American I suppose it would be biweekly?_

 _So yeah, sorry if it seems terrible, but give me a chance, luvs ^^;;;_

 _Note: Missus Ronalds was just a character I made up on the fly; every college AU has to have that pleasant old lady that Arthur gets along with, eh?_


End file.
